FRANK KOZIK

“To me, someone who has visions,

they’re not having art; what they’re doing

is bolstering their ego”

By Steven Cerio

Imagine a silkscreen dayglo world where drunken children dance on broken glass with post-nuclear teddy bears…a ride where every passenger witnesses their favorite cartoon heroes in the throes of stigmata atop sinful pantiless maidens – just add slews of type promoting shows by Nirvana, STP, Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers, etc., and you’ve got the insular little world of Frank Kozik, the most noted Rock poster artist since the poster-crazed Sixties. With appropriated symbols and deities from Saturday morning cartoons and food conglomerates and Pop Culture, Kozik works his magic directly onto the mental screen of the unnamed generation.

But Kozik doesn’t deal with the self-serving aesthetics of the Psychedelic years. His work doesn’t invite you in and fix you a snack. It throws itself into your lap like a nickel whore and slaps you silly when you touch its silky leg.

Frank’s work blossomed in the Peyote-ridden deserts of Texas – Austin, to be exact – his popularity amongst the locals drove him west to San Francisco, where he has been able to focus his energies and growing technical expertise into Man’s Ruin, his graphic design and record production outfit.

Now the twelve solo sows under his ever-expanding belt, he struts through the Nineties mauling your childhood icons like a rabid bear. He’s got a current show under construction for the opening of The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, and a book of his collected work is to be published by Last Gasp in min-’95.

But the suit-and-tied types haven’t ignored Kozik. In fact, BASF and Lincoln Center have entered shady deals with the crowned prince of dayglo. And despite all of the attention fastened upon his work, he has managed to keep his prices low enough for the struggling poster collector and those of us with allowance too small to cover the price of tickets and a couple of tabs.

SECONDS: Why posters?

KOZIK: I like archaic things. It’s the most archaic way to advertise that exists.

SECONDS: Do you dig all the old the psychdelic posters, the Bill Graham and Family Dog stuff?

KOZIK: I’m more into propagnda and old advertising. To me, a poster hasadefinite reason toexist. They’re to advertise something and give yousome kind of visual clue as to what you might be going to see. The Psychedelic stuff was extremely sellf-indulgent. It was allabout “I’m the radartist, look at my art. I care so little about the music that you can’t even read the words.” That’s what I don’t like about Psychedelic artwork. It’s noodlely and most of it’s not that good technically. Take a real hard look at that shit, man, most of it sucks. Having unfortunately met a lot of those guys in person, they’re all just so full of themselves. They all think they’re great artists and shit and it’s just like, “Dude, they’re just posters.” A poster is a poster. The artwork is there to make it interesting, but the main thing is: what’s it for?

SECONDS: I notice you don’t put a lot of emphasis on your lettering.

KOZIK: I’m careful with my layout and the typography, but the main point of it is to be legible. Today, people drive around in cars, so I use block letters so that you could see it from way down the street.

SECONDS: So, you’re putting commercial concerns first.

KOZIK: Yeah, because that’s the whole reason for it. It’s got to be legible. A lot of the Psychedelic stuff wasn’t legible and a lot of its was very pompous and into itself. Plus, I hate hippies anyway. I don’t like Psychedelic poster art; I think it’s a failure. All of it was a weak ripoff of Art Nouveau posters to begin with. Those were readable because of emphasis on line waves. That stuff does not exist in Psychedelic posters. Few of them contain any sort of humor. I like stuff that’s got some kind of ironic comment.

SECONDS: So you dig someone more like Winston Smith?

KOZIK: Yeah, right. What I collect most of all is propaganda stuff from different wars, labor stuff, old movie posters – that’s what I’m interested in as far as posters go. In the Sixties, I lived in a Fascist country.

SECONDS: Where are you originally from?

KOZIK: I lived in Spain.

SECONDS: Do you think that Rock posters have become less important than t-shirts?

KOZIK: Right, It’s hard to find local printing. It takes some kind of skill to do a decent poster with offset printing. Now, I think with the advent of computers, you might see more interesting graphics for offset. Most offset posters for music are something that’s generated by a big label. Also, during the Seventies everything lamed out. That’s when the posters died off. Times change and times change back around. I started doing posters down in Texas and people really liked them. Now, it’s kind of gotten to be a big deal again. There’s a lot of people doing them now.

SECONDS: You were in Austin for what was probably one of the more forgotten of the early Hardcore scenes…..

KOZIK: Yeah, but it was a scene that’s generated a lot of what’s going on now. Whole schools of music originated from a few Austing bands.

SECONDS: How much of what you do is illustration?

KOZIK: It used to be about fifty/fifty. Now it’s almost all posters.

SECONDS: So you’re pretty much illustrating the sound of the band?

KOZIK: What I try to do is do a poster that has no obvious connections to the band. I don’t ever do a pun on the band name. That’s really pathetic. I’ve had to use photos of performers a few times when they insisted on it, but I don’t like to use photos because once again it’s like, “Why do you want a poster?” A picture of the performer on it makes no sense to me --

sick of it anyway because that's all everybody wanted to sec. So I stopped doing it and then 1 got a phone call a year ago from the president.. He's said. "Go ahead. Do whatever you want to do." So

I've been doing more Hanna Barbara stuff. Pretty much I got a license to do what I want to do. They don 't care anymore. They think it makes them cooler. They're desperate to revitalize their company.

SECONDS: You’ve moved from Austin to San Francisco. How has the music scene accepted you?

KOZIK: One of the reasons I moved here was because I started getting some attention. Austin was a nice place to live, but it was a small town and a lot of people were being weird about shit. My privacy was being heavily intruded on. In Austin, I would go out

see a band and people would know who I was and always want to talk to me. I don 't talk to people 1 don 't know, I'm kind of private that way. Here, I can go out and nobody knows and cares and it's really nice. I don 't know what people here think about me.

SECONDS: And you don't even have a telephone at home, right?

COZIK: Right. I don 't care People like my work and I get a lot of work that keeps me busy. I don't need to have a support system. .

SECONDS: What do you need?

COZIK: A place to live. Peace of mind.

SECONDS: A nice looking woman…

COZIK: Yeah, best one I've ever had. Nice to place to live, nice studio, good friends, interesting work.

SECONDS: Living down in Texas, was Peyote a popular thing with you?

COZIK: I went through periods in the early Eighties where I did a lot of Acid and Mushrooms and then for a couple of years I did Speed and shit. I went through all that stuff, but I basically haven’t gotten fucked up for almost ten years now.

SECONDS: Someone like Alex Grey takes his Acid experiences and illustrates what happened. Do you see that surfacing in your work at all?

COZIK: Maybe it allows me to have a different perspective on things, but whenever I tried to work when I was fucked up I couldn’t do anything. I don't even smoke Pot or drink. If I was to get

high and try to work, nothing would happen. I'm not a natural artist I really have to pay attention while I'm working.

SECONDS: Have you had visions that you tried to get on paper?

COZIK: I realized the other day that I've dreamed about working go see the performance. I try and do a poster that ... it' s hard to explain. It's kind of like I take my personal sensibility, how I interpret the band and try to do a visual interpretation of the feeling the band gives me. If a band is mock serious like, say, Killdozer - to someone that doesn't know anything about KilIdozer they're this scary sounding thing, but to people that know, it's all funny. Therefore, the KilIdozer stuff is always the reverse of what you think it should be. It's always something insanely cute and morbid. Some bands are more straight. I did a Jesus & Mary Chain poster and they're really gloomy and serious so I tried to find an enigmatic, sad thing to do for them. I try to make a connection with what I think the band's about without going for the obvious things. By making an oblique connection, I

think that allows a fan of the music to have personal interaction with the poster. "Oh, I get it, coal. I want that." That's what I try to do. I listen to the music I go to shows, 1 read interviews with bands. I know a lot of people in the business. I'II call up someone that knows the people in the band and go. "What are they into? What's their trip?"

SECONDS: So in a way, you' re trying to create the perfect record cover.

KOZIK: Right. I'm trying to provide visual reference for the music that they do in what I think

is an interesting and not-too-obvious way.

SECONDS: It doesn't need to be a conscious effort, but are you building your own visual language through the use of different icons?

KOZIK: Exactly. Like I say, I'm obsessed with propaganda and advertising. It uses icons and symbols to represent an object that someone wants to sell you. I'm really obsessed with the idea of generic visual images, but then putting them in a context where it changes it in a strange way that would make you see things from a slightly different angle. That’s how I tend to look at stuff. I can’t just look at Tony The Tiger and go, "Oh, it's Tony The Tiger.” It’s like, "Why a tiger? Why does the tiger sell cereal: Like anybody else, I have a certain mental landscape and my mental references are over my accumulation of life experiences whatever I’ve learned. I believe in the Jungian thing that certain groups of people just share certain sub-memories. I don’t just listen to a band, I want to know “why?” and try and translate them into a visual medium to advertise them. Hopefully, it’s also good for posters. A poster should provoke a reaction, because then it’s noticed and someone actually thinks about the poster and therefore is more likely to be interested in seeing the band. What everybody used to do in Punk Rock was total shock. I’m trying to disguise it and candy-coat it. It’s a drug but it looks like a toy, so the kid will want to pick it up and once he picks it up he’s fucked. I’m trying to reach people that are programmed to want the same thing all the time. In a weird kind of way, I’m trying to manipulate the observer to interact with the advertisement to go see the band.

SECONDS: You seem to rely on strong sense color sense too.

KOZIK: That's the one natural thing I have. I think I’m good with colors and I try to use colors in interesting ways to make it visually more interesting.

SECONDS: Do you find your color sense is stronger than your drawing or design skills?

KOZIK: I think I have really good design skills and I think I have really god color skills. My drawing skills were extremely poor, but over the years I’m getting better. I’ve learned what I can’t do so I work around what I can’t do rather than what I can do. Instead of trying to do something I can’t really do and having it look crappy, I won’t try it at all. I try not to have a definite style. I try to do different-looking things, and will steal and rip off anything I can and use any kind of technique to get it looking the best way I can. I’m not interested in having an artistic style. I’m just interested in the end result.

SECONDS: You've chosen silkscreening as your medium. How do you feel about that process?

KOZIK: I like it because it was the one finished printing process that I could successfully get the equipment for, master, and produce large-format color things really cheaply. Now I have more money, so I went and bought really nice computers and now I can do really nice four-color process work because I have the technical means to do it with. I'm going to do more stuff offset now because I can pull it off. Silkscreening was cheap and easy enough to do and get a nice finished product with. It was the only way. It was the best technology I could get ahold of and use on a regular basis and that's why I did it. Plus, you do get instant gratification. If you don't like the way it's looking, you can stop and change the ink and try a different thing.

SECONDS: You've been in a little trouble with Hanna Barbara...

KOZIK: A couple of years ago I did some Flintstones stuff and I got a cease and desist order. I was like. "Okay, that's cool." I was on my art. I’ve never had a dream about designs. I can only work when I’m totally lucid and in a normal state. I get ideas all the time. The way I get my best ideas is when I first wake up in the morning and have a really good cup of coffee and an invigorating shower. Or if I go to a show and there’s a band that’s really good and they’re rocking, I’ll get really good ideas. I tend to get the best ideas when I feel physically well. It’s the reverse of what it’s supposed to be – my best ideas come when I’m completely lucid.

SECONDS: What do you think a vision is, then?

KOZIK: I’ve known a lot of people who are artistic. I think there’s two kinds of artists. I think there’s people who are process-oriented and the actual artwork is not important – what it is is an act of self-affirmation, bolstering self-esteem. Whether it turns into anything doesn’t matter and I think that’s where these idiot conceptual artists come from the other person, who is result-oriented when they sit down to do artwork, they do it and they do it well and it gets done. They sit down to fix the car, the car gets fixed. Whatever the task at hand is, they logically plan it out, they execute it, and it’s done well. I think that’s the kind of artist I am. To me, someone who has visions, they’re not having art; what they’re doing is bolstering their ego. They’re projecting themselves into something superhuman that makes them feel better about themselves.

SECONDS: Most artists feel that way. A lot of people say art is just trying to get attention.

KOZIK: I really do think that’s what it is. I’ll be honest with you, I’ve been doing this for a long time. I never went to art school, I never thought this would happen, I enjoy doing it, I enjoy the fact I can get away with it an people like it., but if I was to win the lottery, I would just split for ten years. I wouldn’t do jack shit. I’d go have a good time. I’m a position where I like what I’m doing but I am dependent on it financially. Never going to art school and having a really normal life for many years, I think I can see it for what it really is. I got lucky, I have some nominal skill, I tapped into a good market at the right time. I don’t think I’m some genius, I don’t believe that at all. Maybe ten people in the history of the world were like that, that actually did something original and it was amazingly wonderful. Some guy in Africa carved a mask and invented cubism – who was he? Everybody else just copied him. That’s how I see it. There’s ten originators in the history of man and the rest f us just copy. That’s all I do and it works. I would be just as happy gardening all day long.

SECONDS: So you’re putting emphasis on work, then?

KOZIK: I have to finish something everybody or it’s not going to work. My girlfriend goes, “You’re always working, you ought to do something else.” I go, “There’s nothing else I want to do.” I ride my motorcycle sometimes, but why do I want to run around and waste time?

SECONDS: Stop and smell the flowers, but what flowers?

KOZIK: I smell them all day long. It’s cool now. I like doing it, but if I didn’t have to, I probably wouldn’t. I kind of have to do what I’m doing. I have responsibilities, so I accept it and deal with it. It’s cool, it’s the best job I’ve ever had, but it is a job. I’m not getting rid of my demons or anything.

SECONDS: How has working with assistants affected your work?

KOZIK: It's sped it up and it's making things come out slicker. Of course, the trap is it would all get the same, but what I do is force myself to change style and approach all the time. The minute I get complacent, it' s going to start getting really stale. I go through a regular freak-out - "What I'm doing sucks. How can I make it better?" I have a system, but I'm constantly trying to improve and I think that keeps the work fresh. Dude, I've done over a thousand things the last seven years. I think most of them are pretty good. Some of them are dogs, but I think the success rate is good, especially for that amount of work.

SECONDS: You’ve always kept your price low, too.

KOZIK: Contrary to all these galleries I keep having arguments with, my shit is not fine art, and there is no market for it on the large scale for rich people. The whole reason it exists is basically because college kids want it and anybody with twenty bucks should be able to get one of my things. The minute I start raising prices, it has no reason to exist. The posters are free for the

bands, they gave me permission to sell them and I sell them for as cheap as possible because what this stuff’s really for is for some dude who's nineteen years old, got no money, is real1y into Killdozer and wants a cool poster. He should be able to buy it. This is why I'm real1y bummed out with Robert Williams. There was a time when Williams' stuff was accessible. He has

priced himself out of the reach of anybody who put him where he is. The whole reason he's popular is because for over twenty years, mil1ions of kids dug his shit and could get something

decent cheap. Now, you've got to be a movie star. There was a time where you could get a painting for three hundred bucks. He had to become super-elitist - which is his right - but it's just like all those guys, like that other fucker Raymond Pettibon. All of a sudden he's this great artist and his shits worth a million dollars - give me a break, man. I hate that. I don’t ever want that to happen with my shit. I want my shit to be totally accessible for as little money as possible and to keep doing lots of it and to always have the next cycle of kids always wanting and being able to buy it. I have no interest in going off to elitist land at all. My price structure is totally fluid. I’ll do the same amount of work for free for somebody that I charge a label ten thousand dollars for. I could go "I only do shit for ten thousand dollars" and I could get away with it, but I'm not going to do it I like making a good living so I can have nicer stuff and do better work, but I'll never stop doing the small jobs because that's where it all comes from, The only reason I got those big jobs is because I did free Punk Rock posters for ten years. I will not turn my back on that. I've got major calls from people I do business with and they're like "Why are you doing this?" All these bands that are so big now, once they played to nobody. Why should I become elitist? It's the quickest way to drive myself out of business that I can think of. I enjoy these bands, I enjoy new things. Right now I'm branching out to other stuff: books games, and other shit that's not music.

SECONDS: Games?

KOZIK: I might be doing this CD-Rom game, Death Race 2000. At the same time, I'm always going to do the posters for a show where two hundred people, tops, go to. That's where it all comes from for me. That’s the ground.

SECONDS: What posters were you doing in the early Hardcore scene? The Big Boys?

KOZIK: No, back then I was just too busy getting high and going to shows. I really started working around '85, '86. The bands that are like a big deal now that I did stuff for back then like the Butthole Surfers. Melvins stuff when nobody cared. Red Hot Chili Peppers when they were nobody, Jane's Addiction when they were nobody, Soundgarden when they were no one, Pearl Jam, Rev. Horton Heat, luckily, my taste in stuff usually turns out well and it fuels the next cycle of "What am into now?" There's always been bands that are never going to get huge but are bands I like. I love Killdozer; I’ve been doing KiIldozer shit for almost ten years and I always will do Killdozer shit for as long as they're a band. What happens is, when the bands get really big, I don't do stuff for them anymore because they get trapped into crazy things. They don't need posters anymore, they have too many managers and merchandisers - I'm going through that with Nine Inch Nails. I did Nine Inch Nails stuff the first time around and all of a sudden it's a big problem to do their shit. I don't do it anymore ... ask somebody else.

SECONDS: Did you ever do a poster for a band whose music you totally despised?

KOZIK: A couple of times I did it as favors. I used to do stuff for Avalon Attractions in Los Angeles. They gave me pretty cool shows to do and then they got in a jam one time and wanted an Eric Clapton poster. Sometimes I do deals with MCA Concerts Northwest and they'll give me really cool things to do, but sometimes it's "Well, we need you to do this thing for this band Rust we're trying to promote." I'll do something I don’t really like because the reward is they'll give me really killer shows to do later.

SECONDS: There 's probably a decent cash reward too, right?

KOZIK: The money I make comes from sales to people who buy posters. I don't ever charge the venues or the bands for posters. They get a certain amount free of charge and then they give me permission to sell a numbered edition and that pays for the printing. I'd say the most I've ever made off a poster is something like eighty dollars.

SECONDS: Tell us about your new record label.

KOZIK: The first two things are out and we're about to do three more. I know that what I do is probably going to reach overkill pretty soon because there's about to be so much shit released: screen savers, books. skateboards, T-shirts, hockey pucks. This summer you'l1 be able to buy my shit on everything in the world. Whatever, we might as well give it a shot. One of the reasons I'm doing the label is if that blows up in my face and nobody wants my shit anymore, the record label's already doing well. I’ll make a decent living just doing the labels. It’s kind

of like my safely net if the bottom falls out of my artwork. I'm in an okay position. I don't have any debts. I have no responsibilities other than to myself, so if it all falls apart I'll just go get a job.

SECONDS: What would be the sweetest gig you could think of?

KOZIK: 7-11 Slurpee cups. The most common thing in the universe.